Page 38 of Lord of Debauchery

Opinionated.

Overconfident.

Someone who believed he could snap their fingers and get everything handed to him.

Beckham Kennedy was without a doubt the most infuriating man I’d ever met in my life.

Yet there was something appealing about him as well that continued to catch my attention and put me off my game. He was scared of nothing, acting as if he was invincible.

The entire situation remained like a beacon of red flags all banded together. Why were we alive? By all rights we shouldn’t be. If the point in the attacks was to keep us on edge, under their reign of terror, well, it had certainly worked with me.

I’d never felt so far removed from my life, even when I’d basically started out from scratch in what seemed like two decades before.

Every detail of the last twenty-four hours had rooted itself in the forefront of my mind, horrific and bloody images playing out one after another. I felt a tremendous loss, including not having a weapon in my hand.

Something I’d been certain I’d never need to experience again.

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to ignore the tingles that had never left from the kiss inside the jet. He’d acted so possessive, as if after his saving and ‘protecting’ me I owed him my full surrender. The bastard had another think coming.

The images shifted from his face to the bodies of the assailants that I’d seen.

Branded.

The crude markings had all the makings of a gang-related situation, but their actions said something else altogether. Yes, they’d obviously had extensive training but more than that, they’d been brainwashed into feeling nothing in the face of death. I’d seen it before, and they were some of the most dangerous soldiers out there.

They were similar in actions to the men I’d encountered overseas. Those soldiers had been far too sophisticated for the insurgent’s level of intelligence. Given we’d been in position to gain very classified intel from our enemies at the time, I’d guess that’s what the assassins had been after. The base had closed down shortly after that, which was why I’d been released from duty earlier than my tour of duty had required.

Maybe my commanding officers had feared the team had been compromised.

However, it wasn’t the only time I’d seen the markings, although I couldn’t remember if they were the same.

I continued to envision the ugly carving and knew it had been a product of my former nightmares. Try as I might, it was impossible to get the turn of events out of my mind. Even though I’d washed my hands a half dozen times, I could swear blood stained my fingers from working on his wound.

Even now, I stared at one hand, struggling with the images and thoughts. I could easily mind fuck myself if I wasn’t careful. “Just stop,” I huffed, taking a deep breath and holding it in. When I let it out, I decided to concentrate on the gorgeous scenery outside the glorious set of glass doors.

Rye, New Hampshire.

The small town was stunning by anyone’s standards. While so much of the area was directly on the water, there was also a quaint downtown that drew in tourists, especially during the summer months.

I knew some about the location, which often competed for guests. However, I hadn’t adequately envisioned the stunning shoreline, the water appearing crystalline from the glow of the early afternoon sun.

While there were homes of almost every size, the massive estates had the most land and privacy.

Not that it wasn’t something I wouldn’t have expected.

I stood in the expansive chef’s kitchen by the set of sliding back doors leading out onto the largest party deck I’d ever seen in my life. There were various areas where guests could group and enjoy a drink or the ocean front scenery. There were two fireplaces, one on each end, at least two fire pits incorporated in the stunning granite coffee tables. A large trellis covered one section that had to be thirty by forty feet, the netting on top providing shade and some protection against rain.

The area of beach was impressive and from where I stood, I could only see one house in the distance on a point leading further out into the ocean. While I’d yet to be shown the rest of the estate, sequestered into this room as soon as we’d arrived, I could only imagine how stunningly gorgeous every room was, including the art and other decorations.

I’d grown up around money of course, but my childhood home had been dark and foreboding in comparison. This house was light and bright and welcoming.

Unlike the situation.

I held my arms, another chill settling in.

Yes, I’d been terrified at the airport. I had been before, but I’d been able to more easily hide my emotions or maybe I’d just been in shock. Whatever the case, my stomach remained in knots, a headache pounding behind my eyes.

We’d been met at the airport by a swarm of men, all carrying weapons even if most had tried to hide them from the naked eye. I’d counted eight vehicles taking us to our destination, more soldiers already positioned outside the house upon our arrival.

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